


The Touch of a Brother

by maitimiel



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, Nice feelings of shame, Sibling Incest, Tent Sex, and guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:47:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22608007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maitimiel/pseuds/maitimiel
Relationships: Maedhros | Maitimo/Maglor | Makalaurë
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	The Touch of a Brother

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sleepless_Malice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepless_Malice/gifts).



“You may leave us now,” Maglor’s powerful voice sounded from the tent’s opening. Maedhros could feel a headache coming. He nodded assent to the young elf he had been dictating a letter to, and they quickly removed themselves with a bow.

“Makalaurë,” he said, in lieu of greeting, and his brother walked closer, inspecting him. Maedhros’ was still clad in armour, the blood and the filth from the battle all over him, and he was glad he couldn’t smell himself. The same couldn’t be said of Magor, going by his face; he had already bathed and put on fresh clothes. His hair was neatly braided, and one would never guess only a few hours prior he’d looked like a fell beast.

“It occurred to me,” Maglor spoke after clearing his throat, “That you might have once again neglected to care for yourself.”

“There’s much to be done,” Maedhros said lightly. “One battle isn’t a war. If we want to fully take advantage of this victory, we need to make sure to-”

“I’m sure our plans won’t be too compromised by a night’s delay,” Maglor interrupted. “Especially considering half our soldiers are recovering from injury, and half are drunk from the celebrations.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, measuring each other. Maedhros suddenly felt very tired.

“I’m afraid, dear brother, that I cannot undress myself without assistance, and you have sent my servant away.”

Maglor stood in front of him, solemnly. 

“Let me.”

Maedhros closed his eyes and nodded his consent. 

Secretly, it had always marvelled him how easily Maglor’s hands could go from gently plucking notes on a harp to yielding a sword with ferocious rage. It was with the gentleness of the musician that he removed Maedhros armour, his fingers moving deftly but delicately, unclasping each piece one by one. Maedhros kept his eyes closed, but he could as well as see his brother by the soft dislocation of air, the sound of his breath, of his heartbeat.

He felt like the very air around them was heavier than before.

When Maglor was done with his armour, he dropped to his knees and started to unlace Maedhros’ boots. Maedhros wondered for a brief moment whether the dirt on his floor wouldn’t get on his bother’s robes. Maglor placed a hand behind his knee and gently nudged him to lift his foot. Maedhros complied in silence.

It didn’t take long before Maglor had him completely bare, and it should feel as innocent and natural as talking. They had grown up together. They had bathed together, gotten dressed together, and slept together, all of their bothers. Maedhros shouldn’t feel the way he felt, burning, desperate, frightened with the intensity of his desire. If Maglor noticed, he made no comment, just guided him to sit on the edge of the bed as he left to procure warm water.

Maedhros still couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t look at himself.

Maglor came back with the water and a soft piece of cloth, with which he wiped the blood, the sweat, the gore and the dirt out of Maedhros’ skin. His limbs felt heavy, his skin felt warm. He wanted nothing more than to be asleep, and not have to think and wonder about what was wrong with him, why the touch of a brother made him this incoherent, this out of control. If Maglor _understood_.

"Maitimo." His brother's voice sounded close to his ear, and Maedhros could feel his breath against his jaw. "Why do you hide?"

He forced himself to look into Maglor's dark, cloudy eyes and tried to smile but he wasn't sure that it didn't look like a grimace of pain. 

"Forgive me. Seems the exertions of the day have caught up to me."

Maglor set next to him and raised his fingers delicately to Maedhros' jaw, tilting his head slightly upwards, as if he was looking for something.

"Are you afraid?"

Words seemed caught in his throat and he tried to look away, but Maglor firmed his grasp, his other hand reaching for Maedhros' arm to hold him in place. Maedhros stilled.

"I'm afraid I'm quite tired, brother," he mumbled, very aware of the warmth that spread from his face to his ears, his chest. "I should retire."

"I know you want it. You know I want it also," Maglor said bluntly. "Must we continue to run from one another like scared prey?"

"You don't know what you're asking, Kano," Maedhros said, trying to keep his voice even.

"Do you truly believe that?" Maglor asked, voice loaded with scepticism. "Is it me or yourself you seek to convince?"

He let his hand slid down so it held Maedhros wrist, rather than his shoulder, a thumb sliding over his brother's lower lip gently. Maedhros stood at once, freeing himself.

"We can't!" He half exclaimed half supplicated. "Kano, we mustn't."

They stared at each other, Maglor still sitting on the hard cot, Maedhros standing as far from his as he could without leaving the tent. He knew he couldn't hide how much he wanted this without covering himself with his hands, and even though he resisted the urge, tears of humiliation started welling up in his eyes.

"Don't ask it of me. Please."

Maglor didn't say anything.

There was a loud crash outside, followed by laughter and the sound of inebriated voices cheering. Maedhros startled, but as the sound of a rather inappropriate song about pigs filled the night air, his attention went back to Maglor as his brother stood and walked up to him, pulling his own coat and covering Maedhros back with it.

"I have grown tired of not asking it of you, brother," he said, resolutely, reaching again for him, not letting him escape. "Why should I not, when what I ask will hurt no one, and concerns no one other than ourselves?"

He grasped Maedhros hair with his free hand and pushed their lips together.

It felt at the same time different from anything Maedhros could have ever imagined and as familiar as if he'd been doing it since the beginning of time, as if his body had been made for this purpose and this purpose alone, as if he and Maglor were two halves that were always meant to find one another. It felt like drowning, and like breathing in fresh air after a lifetime in captivity. 

He couldn't stop it. He couldn't have, even if he wanted to.

He found himself back on the cot, with Maglor's still clothed body above him, hands and teeth leaving marks on his body like he was property, and Maedhros felt a jolt of electricity run through his body when a muscled thigh found its way between his legs. He gasped, loudly, and Maglor quickly covered his mouth with his hands, looking his with wild, commanding eyes. The eyes of a warrior. Maedhros didn't move as they listened, looking for a sign they'd been heard.

Maglor took his hand back, kissing Maedhros more gently than he had until then, a more compassionate expression on his face.

"If you truly want me to go, brother, tell me so now," he whispered, breathing hard. "But I'm afraid that if that's the case, I must leave forever. I don't think I can stand by your side and not touch you any longer." He looked into Maedhros' eyes, and there was a fire in him. "Tell me. Tell me now."

For the first time that night, Maedhros reached for him, and Maglor closed his eyes when Maedhros touched his jaw, fingers trembling.

"Don't go," he said, and it was a confession as much as it was a request.

Maglor pressed again between his tighs, and Maedhros could feel his brother's desire hard on his hip as they desperately rutted against one another, and Maedhros bit his lips until his vision blurred, until he knew nothing but the touch of his brother, the smell of him, his ragged breath under his ear and the way Maglor was pulling his hair.

Maedhros came first, and he sank his teeth on Maglor's shoulder to stifle his own moans, barely noticing the metallic taste of blood on his lips until he fell limp on the bed again. Maglor didn't seem to mind it, continuing to thrust against him until he brought himself to completion, and then he rested atop of Maedhros for a while, in complete silence until their breathing evened. 

Maedhros must have started dozing off, because when he came to himself, Maglor was sitting on the edge of his cot and pulling his boots back on, his hair already neat again.

"Don't leave."

"I can't be seen leaving in the morning," Maglor said pragmatically. "I'll be back tomorrow."

Maedhros couldn't help but feel a sudden emptiness at those words. He pulled the furs more closely around himself.

"I'll be back," Maglor said, leaning in to touch his forehead to his, "I promise."

The tent had never felt quite so cold before.


End file.
